


Live like common people

by blue_string_pudding



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol, Draco Malfoy in the Muggle World, Drugs, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/M, Friendship, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hurt/Comfort, Intoxication, Muggle London, Music, Original Character(s), Post-Hogwarts, Post-War, Relationship(s), Romance, Slow Burn, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-16 18:13:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29828895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_string_pudding/pseuds/blue_string_pudding
Summary: Draco Malfoy disappeared a few months after the war ended. Six years later, Hermione finds him again working in a muggle bicycle shop in south London.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Ron Weasley/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 20





	1. Parents

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic - inspired by a pandemic induced early mid-life crisis and really wishing I could go back to the pub.
> 
> It's basically finished, *just* the editing left to do. I'll be uploading a chapter a week.

Walking down the streets of South London, Narcissa Malfoy was trying her best not to touch anyone or anything. This was particularly tricky on the road she was currently on as a bustling market was in full flow. Traders displayed a rainbow assortment of fruit, vegetables, clothes and much more from around the world, their packing boxes and displays spilling into what room there was left to walk while shoppers stopped without warning to chat in more languages than she cared to recognise. She side stepped a large man who had stopped to inspect a selection of pineapples, intent on ignoring the stroppy woman behind him and threw him her most disdainful glare, he at least had the decency to recoil a little.

Her eventual destination was a tall building made of new brick with large windows that towered over the surrounding market and buildings, making it look very out of place. Checking the piece of parchment in her hand once more her attention turned to a keypad by the door. Her directions stated that she needed to press the buttons for the number on the address and a doorbell would ring in the flat.

There was a distorted beep followed by a voice that came straight out of the box. Crackled and distorted like the beep had been it said "On my way down mother, you'll need to pull the door when it buzzes". A second later the door emitted a harsh buzz. Wrinkling her nose at the handle she pulled it open and stepped through into a small courtyard. Looking around to check it was empty she muttered "scourgify" at her glove and breathed a sigh of relief when it was no longer soiled.  
  
"You can't catch anything from a door handle. " said a sneering voice from across the courtyard. She looked up to see Draco walking toward her, looking equally amused and annoyed. She stood still taking in the sight of what her son had become. His face and grey eyes remained the same, almost identical to his father’s, but aside from those small graces he was almost beyond recognition. His hair was long, down to the middle of his back, tied back into a careless ponytail. He was wearing a baggy t-shirt with a faded design printed on it and equally baggy jeans, hanging loose off his tall, slender frame. They were a far cry from the smart dress robes he had looked so handsome in. The biggest change, and the one she hated the most was the tattoo that completely covered his left arm. And now she noticed that there was a new one presumably across his shoulder as it was showing above his collar, creeping towards his neck.

His eyes followed where she was looking, and his face darkened. “We’ve been through this; father started it I just improved the design.” Then motioning towards his outfit “If we went out for lunch I might have put something nicer on. Seems pointless to add washing to the pile when you’re not leaving home”.

Narcissa continued to be unimpressed.

“If you came back to your actual home there would be someone to do it for you” She sniffed. Then without a pause “and I am NOT going out for lunch surrounded by muggles” the word came out in the same way she would describe something she had found on her shoe. “Half of the ones round here don’t even seem to be English! Don’t they have their own countries to call home?”

Draco gave an annoyed sigh. “This is their home mother.”

There was a light ping as the lift reached its destination and they stepped out and across the hall to a doorway and into a flat.

Narcissa continued, more hopefully “Why couldn’t you move to Chelsea? The Parkinson’s have lovely place there!”

“Because it is full of boring, rich, wankers.”

“Language Draco!” Narcissa said sharply, but he pretended not hear.

“And as I have told you on both of your visits since I left - I have absolutely no intention of being near anyone from the wizarding community ever again.” But she had stopped listening and was now walking around the flat, taking it in.

It was a huge contrast to Malfoy Manor. Floor to ceiling windows allowed the sun to pour in making it bright and airy. Around the walls were a lot of gadgets, although she had no idea what any of them did. Two black boxes with material over the front were emitting music at a low volume and between them, hanging from the wall, there was a large frame that had glass but no image - just a big black expanse where one should have been. She continued to look around, skipping over what she didn’t recognise then noticed the bookshelf. Intent on ignoring her son’s ludicrous argument for a little longer she scanned through the titles. However, looking along shelves there wasn’t a single name she recognised so she moved on.

Most of the flat was immaculately tidy, the dining table which sat between the living space and the open plan kitchen was the exception. It was littered with wheels, cogs, cables and some sort of frame. Narcissa presumed that at some point they formed a whole, but she couldn’t imagine how.

“I see you’ve excelled at frittering away the money we gave to you” She was looking down her nose at another contraption with more buttons and knobs that she cared to know what to do with that was between the two speakers. “I suppose I should be grateful that at least you have a roof over your head”.

Draco rolled his eyes and pressed his lips together biting back a rude response then once the initial irritation had subsided said “I can assure you that none of the items within this flat were bought with estate money that was already mine. That money was spent on this flat and a permanent premises for the business.”

“Oh yes… What is it that you do? Tinker with muggle bicycles?” She drawled dismissively, eye’s flicking to the contraption on the table. Draco’s eyes flashed with annoyance, but he wasn’t going to let his mother get to him.

“We fix them and sell them. We’ve been busy enough that we’re about to open another shop nearby”.

Determined not to give Draco the satisfaction of impressing her, Narcissa merely made a small noise of acknowledgement and then made herself comfortable on the sofa while Draco made her tea and put the sandwiches and other bits he had bought for lunch onto a plate.

Lunch was eaten in stubborn silence and it wasn’t until the plates were cleared away that Narcissa admitted defeat and started talking again.

She tried to make small conversation about other wizarding families and what his Slytherin peers had been up to since they last spoke but Draco was monosyllabic at best, even when she mentioned that Pansy Parkinson was getting married next month.

“Poor bastard” Said Draco. Narcissa glared at him, but didn’t comment.

Eventually she gave up with small talk. “When will you come home Draco? Your friends miss you” she asked sadly. She missed him too.

“I’ve told you before. When this - ” He waved his tattooed arm in her face, forcing her to sit back into the chair “disappears. Which we both know will never happen. There’s no point in me coming back, no one will have me.”

“That’s not true!” She tried to interject but it only served to make him more irritated.

“Really? And you know that how? Lot’s of other wizards with the dark mark branded on their arm trying to live normal life? No!” His voice was growing louder as he got angrier “know how I know that? Because they’re all in fucking Azkaban!” He stopped to draw a breath, nostrils flaring, eyes hard and emotionless. “As for my ‘friends’” He spat the word “They couldn’t have given two shits after the war, what on earth would have changed their minds in the last 6 years? Besides all of this, as I keep trying to tell you - I don’t _want_ to come back.”

“Draco you are acting like a petulant child!” Narcissa snapped, now angry herself. “You will come back to the manor and take your rightful place. Malfoy’s do not care whether they are liked, only whether they hold power.”

Draco took two deep breaths, and looked straight into his mother’s eyes

“No.” He paused to let the word sink in.

“Now you have seen that your less than prodigal heir is safe, even comfortable! I have fed you lunch, now I would like you to leave.” Narcissa stared back for as long as she could but it was clear that this was a battle she was not about to win. Without saying another word, she retrieved her cloak and bag and swept out the door.

Anger and sadness swept through her as the lift clunked its way to the ground floor. She stormed out of the building no longer caring who or what she touched and narrowly avoided colliding headlong into a man coming the other way. As she got out onto the street the anger started to ebb away. The market that had been so busy this morning was now gone, and she was alone on the street.

The conversation had not gone quite how she had planned, and she wondered if he would ever understand that she was trying to do what was best for him. She had once firmly believed that this was just a phase and the quicker he snapped out of it, the better it would be all round. But her belief crumbled a little with each infrequent visit. That being said, while she could never say this him, she was relieved he seemed happy.

\-----

Draco stood leaning on the balcony, joint in hand, watching his mother leave the street below. He let heavy drums and guitar riffs pounding out of the speakers wash over him gradually eroding away the anger. The music was so loud he didn’t notice his flatmate Jules had come in until he nudged him on the arm to borrow his lighter. Draco jumped about two feet in surprise causing Jules to laugh out loud.

“Was just almost bowled over by an angry woman who could only be your mother!” Jules said. Draco gave a monosyllabic reply.

“And now you’re listening to Fear Factory. Industrial Metal is a sure sign of anger.” He mused, taking a long drag of his cigarette for effect. “Want to talk about it?”

“No”

“Didn’t think so” said Jules shrugging, completely unperturbed by his companion’s curtness.

“You never do”


	2. Is there anybody out there?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How did Draco end up living as a muggle? (part 1)

**6 Years earlier**

Draco walked through the dark streets of Berlin without any direction. It had been 6 months since the battle of Hogwarts but it had felt like a lifetime. He had been travelling around Europe for 4 months, staying with family and friends. So far he had visited France, Italy, Austria and now was in Germany.

At first he had been excited to see new countries. Much better, he thought, than having to go back to that idiotic school - even if he had been allowed back. But in each place the locals would work out who he was and become frosty or in some cases hostile, the same attitudes he had been trying to escape at home. At that point each time, his host had politely but quickly ushered him on to another destination, keen to distance themselves from the association.

Over the months he became despondent, unable to see a way out of his problem for the first time. At least during the war there had been an option for escape - death. Not the happy ending he might have wished for but at least death was a good motivator. Now nothing and loneliness stretched before him.

Initially his predicament had made him angry. Angry at his parents, his friends and society for abandoning him. But then the anger made way for dread and guilt, memories forming unbidden in his mind when he tried to sleep. Images behind his eyelids of blood and pain, flashes of green light and the echoes of screams in his ears. As days turned into weeks and then months these faded too leaving nothing but emptiness. He had welcomed the silence compared to the screams at first but now he would numbly make it through the days out of a sense of deep rooted etiquette and crawl under his duvet as soon as possible to stare into a black abyss.

Draco looked up from his feet and down a street to the left. It was relatively busy considering it was past 10 in the evening. He must have wandered into the muggle part of Berlin, but as he was already in his muggle clothes, he turned down it, intrigued. He noticed that the people out were all young, talking happily in groups, no one gave him a second glance. He stopped to look into an open door, streaming light onto the pavement, it was a bar.

He carried on his aimless wander down the street past several more lively bars until he came to another open door. Rather than light, this door had a cacophony of music bursting out of it. It wasn’t like any kind of music that he had ever heard in the wizarding world though - it was angry. An aggressive rhythm beat into Draco’s ears enticingly, urging him to hear more. He looked about but still no one was paying him any attention so he stepped inside where he was met by an even bigger wall of noise. The drums had been joined by bass that seemed to make his bones vibrate, guitar and vocals that could barely be deciphered. The fierce music lit a tiny spark deep inside Draco and after weeks of emptiness it coursed like fire through Draco’s nerves, he felt alive.

There were tables dotted around the floor and next to the door was a small bar with some stools. The room was dimly lit and he could see that most of the tables were occupied by groups of people talking amongst themselves. He looked around the dingy bar feeling like an intruder, but still no one seemed to care that he was there. Then he accidentally caught the eye of the barman who waved cheerily at him and walked over. Draco cursed under his breath at having been noticed but found himself rooted to the spot as the other man completed the two strides from one side of the bar to where he was.

The barman was slightly shorter than Draco with dark brown hair and unassuming features, Draco was terrible a judging people’s age, but the man couldn’t have been much older than he was He was wearing a black hoody that had a hole in the cuff he’d stuck his thumb through and baggy black trousers with a chain that hung from the belt loops. Draco noticed that his nails had cipped black nail varnish and were badly bitten. Despite his grungy appearance his smile beamed like a man who had just been told he was about to be a grandfather. He shouted something over the music in not quite fluent German.

Draco looked confused at him; languages were not his forte. “How about English then?” Said the barman, much more fluently before Draco could say anything at all. Taken by surprise, Draco nodded. “Great!” The barman beamed his smile again. “I’m much better in English anyway. What can I get you to drink?”

“Err…” said Draco, who still felt like he shouldn’t be there and was quite taken aback by this weirdly friendly barman. But he did know that he was not ready for the silence of his head again just yet, so he did not want to leave the bar.

He had drunk alcohol at school but was certain that this muggle bar would not serve firewhisky or elf made wine. He was fairly sure that they drank other wine though so he went with that. A look of surprised confusion crossed the barman’s face as though wine wasn’t an order he heard very often but it was gone in a blink. “Red or white?”

“Err” said Draco for the second time in almost as many minutes “white please” he hazarded and sat down on a stool. He took a sip when it arrived and couldn’t help himself making a face, it was disgusting.

The barman, who was still watching him laughed. “Not the best is it?”

Draco looked at the man blankly, unsure what to say. Fortunately, at that point someone else came to the bar, drawing away the unwanted attention. Grateful, Draco sank into his stool and sipped his wine. It really was revolting but the alcohol brought back more feelings that had been absent for too long so he drank it anyway.

He continued to sit at the bar, letting the music wash over him. At some point the barman had offered him a beer “it’s much better than the wine, I promise” and tried to make more conversation. When Draco hadn’t been forthcoming, he continued his jobs around the bar. Some point later the lights went up and the music stopped. The friendly barman walked over to him again “Sorry mate, we’re closing for the night. That’ll be 4 euros for the drinks”. Draco felt himself go even paler than normal, he obviously didn’t have any muggle money with him. How had it come to this? 

“I - I’m sorry, I must have left my money somewhere” he said stalling slightly. There was an awkward moment while the barman considered his options then shrugged.

“You look like there have been worse things happen to you today. I’ll get these for you this evening, but if I see you in here again, I’m not serving you until I’ve seen some green.” Draco nodded, shocked into silence again, it was becoming a habit this evening. “Thank you” was all he could manage before he walked out.

Draco woke up the next day feeling like he had actually slept for the first time in months. The angry music was still ringing in his ears, cathartic after the despair he had felt. His first thought was that he wanted to go back there this evening. Then he remembered that it was a muggle bar and the despair started creeping back in.

“Muggles be damned!” he exclaimed aloud, making the portrait on the wall jump. He had never let them stop him having fun in the past, why start now? He also remembered that he owed the barman for his drinks and it was a strict rule that a Malfoy was never in debt.

Going to his aunt (not an actual aunt but a distant relative of his father’s whom he was staying with) he spun a yarn about needing muggle money. She didn’t seem to care what he did, so happily gave him a few hundred euros from a draw in the hall and went about her day. 

Having dressed in the most casual clothes he could find in an attempt to stick out less like a sore thumb he went back to the bar much earlier that evening. Retracing his steps along the river until he came across the familiar street. It was still daylight and the street was much busier than when he stumbled across it last night. Café tables spilled onto the pavement and punters sat talking animatedly amongst themselves. The whole scene felt happy and carefree, he’d not seen anything like it in the wizarding world since the Quidditch world cup almost four years ago. He almost envied them; then he remembered they were muggles. 

He looked along the row of doors down the street, trying to remember which he’d gone through last night. After mistakenly walking in to two completely different establishments doubt started to seep in and he almost walked away. But then he saw it, the dark doorway beckoning him in.

There was no wall of noise as he walked in this time, the volume had been turned down. Though quieter, it was still the same style of music, hard and aggressive, but today there were more discernible lyrics and event hints at a melody. The bar was empty making it look even more dingey than it had the night before.

“Hey!” The same barman from last night greeted him even more cheerfully than last time. More ready for it this time Draco was able to utter “Hi” without looking completely dumbstruck but was still at a loss at what else to say. Fortunately, the barman did not have the same problem with words.

“I presume you’ve come back for our most excellent wine selection!” Sarcasm dripped in his voice and he deliberately reached for the fridge raising his eyebrows at Draco clearly trying to provoke a reaction.

“I’ll have a beer thanks” Draco said quickly before he could continue with his apparent threat.

“An excellent choice sir!” He went to pour a pint but paused halfway and spun back around to face Draco. “Wait! I can’t afford to sub your misery drowning two nights in a row. Especially as you’ve arrived much earlier today. I’m going to need proof that you can pay your way this evening” Draco smirked and waved some cash at him. Satisfied the barman went to collect his drink.

“I’m surprised you came back after getting away with a free evening. I know I wouldn’t have.” The barman said as he put the pint glass on the bar.

Now that he had finally collected his wits and stopped being surprised every five seconds he had tried to sneer or at least look down his nose at the slightly dishevelled man as he came back. But try as he might, his heart just wasn’t in it. Perhaps it was that this was the first human who hadn’t looked at him like he was as welcome as a cockroach in several months. Whatever it was Draco felt strangely at ease and was in fact relishing the easy friendliness like he would a glass of water after being lost in the desert.

“Thank you” said Draco “And thank you for last night, here’s the money for the drinks. Can I get you one now to make up for it?”

“Don’t mind if I do” The barman beamed at him, poured himself the same as Draco then came and stood next to him on the opposite side of the bar.

“I’m Jules by the way” extending a hand. Draco eyed it with all the disdain he could muster but Jules just smiled at him, arm still outstretched. He was persistent.

“Draco” he said slowly shaking the offered hand very briefly.

“Nice to meet you, Draco. That’s one hell of a name. Mind if I call you Drac?” Draco did mind but got the feeling that Jules would use it anyway so shrugged.

“So, what are you doing in this dive?” Jules asked “You don’t look like our usual clientele, far too clean” Draco was lost for words again. He was not about to tell the muggle stranger his woes even if he could. He grasped for an excuse but before he could come up with something plausible Jules spoke again “You’re alright, don’t panic; you don’t have to tell me. I’m just being nosey.”

“The music’s good” managed Draco “I’ve not heard anything like it before.” Jules looked surprised for a second then asked, “It’s not for everyone, what kind of stuff did you listen to growing up?”

“We didn’t really have music” Draco said non-committantly.

Jules suddenly looked outraged “Not even at school? That’s criminal! Music feeds the soul and is a great salve for many emotional ails. It’s like magic.” Draco shifted in his seat at the mention of magic but Jules carried on, barely taking a breath.

“There’s something for every emotion. This,” He pointed at the ceiling, indicating the music that was playing “metal - is great for when you’re angry. Drum and base - great for dancing, punk – fab for when you’ve got attitude…” Draco listened as Jules listed off what he assumed were more types of music than he imagined possible. He was so animated, like it brought him joy just talking about it.

He had bounced over to a black box with many knobs and buttons and pressed a couple causing the small lights on the front to change and the music that was playing stopped and was replaced by a different song. Draco watched with amazement; he had not considered where the music was coming from. Jules bounced back to the bar “This song is my current jam. I can’t stop listening to it”.

The next hour was spent with the barman called Jules playing Draco a seemingly never-ending list of songs. Draco mostly sat in silence occasionally commenting on one he particularly liked. At eight Jules came out from behind the bar holding a plate of chips. “I’m heading for my break now, want to come?” Without anything better to do Draco followed his newfound friend onto the pavement outside where they sat down at a table of the café next door. They sat in silence for a minute as the relative quiet of the street sunk in. Jules lit a cigarette and Draco drank some more of his fourth pint.

“So, you’re clearly not German, where are you staying at the moment?” Asked Jules.

Possibly due to the fourth beer, Draco was glad to have a question he could answer without risking the statute of secrecy.

“I’m staying with an aunt in Charlottenburg-Wilmersdorf for a while.”

Jules gave a long low whistle “Nice area! I said you were too clean for this bar.” He gave Draco a grin to show he was joking. “But your face mostly looks like slapped arse so I’m guessing you’re not happy there”

Draco was taken aback at the bluntness and annoyed at the expression but try as he might he could not deny the statement and merely shook his head. Jules looked sympathetic, but mercifully said no more. He seemed to have a knack of knowing when not to ask questions. Maybe that’s what Draco liked about the man.

“How about you? You’re clearly not German either, although I’d hazard you’ve been here longer than me.” 

“I was living with my aunt too, moved here 6 years ago from the UK after my parents died.” Draco looked down not knowing how to react, wishing he hadn’t asked “It’s OK, now” said Jules, sensing the discomfort.

“But I left a couple of years ago for various reasons. Got a job here and am grateful for Berlin’s controlled rents. I’m saving up to go travelling soon. Europe first, then I’ll head to South east Asia then maybe America.” He stopped and looked wistful for a moment then stood up with his plate and glass. “Well. Better head back inside. You coming?”

The bar had got louder and busier when they stepped back inside which meant there was less opportunity for talking. Draco was glad to be left with his thoughts and sat at the bar while Jules would occasionally bring him another pint. The words about his parents still hung in his thoughts. That he had so casually told him about become an orphan and then homeless at 16 and still remain so cheerful had had a funny effect on Draco – a moment of perspective. But the beer was starting to cloud his thoughts so he let the music fill his head again, washing away unwanted emotions.

At Jules’ next break they went out onto the pavement again but the table had gone so they sat on the curb. “Oh I’ve got another of my current earworms to share with you” said Jules’ as they sat. He pulled out a small silvery box with wires coming out of it. Draco eyed it suspiciously. “You didn’t have music growing up, it makes sense you’ve never seen a minidisc player” He shook his head as if silently berating the people the who brought him up so neglectfully. “It’s like a Walkman but the minidisks can hold more than a tape” With no further explanation he stuffed a small plastic thing on the end of one of the wires into his ear. Before he could protest at the intrusion Draco realised that there was music coming out of it.

This song was much slower and sadder than what they had listened to before. It was the first song Draco had heard since coming here where he could actually hear the lyrics. They sung of hurt, despair and numbness, and pulled at nerves he’d been trying so hard to bury. 

As the lyrics washed over him, he felt something snap inside. Before he could control himself, a huge sob racked through his body. More came instantly, like a flood gate opening that he couldn’t stop, his breath coming in sharp gasps. Jules rubbed his back twice and simply said “Let it out mate. It’s dangerous keeping that much bottled up.”

They sat on the floor, Draco crying into his knees for another few minutes until finally he managed regain control.

The crying had helped him sober up and he suddenly felt very ashamed of himself. Malfoys don’t cry. the face of his father floated in front of his eyes, sneering at him, disappointed. Anger swept over him again. “I need to leave” he said standing up abruptly.

Jules stood up with him “ok” he said calmly, unperturbed by Draco mood swing. “Here, take this” he had his minidisc player in his hand “I’ve loaded it with the heaviest music I’ve got on me, I think it will help. Press this button for play, this one for skip a song, that one for back a song, and this is the volume. Bring it back tomorrow.” He pressed it into Draco hands and without another word headed back into the bar. 

Draco watched completely stunned as Jules retreated into the bar without a glance backwards. He gingerly pressed the earphones into his ears and pressed play. Music similar to what they had been listening to before stormed his ears. He fiddled once with the buttons then head off back towards his aunt’s. The music did help. He stomped along to the beat, his brain boiling with the deluge of emotions that had hit him. By the time he got home the anger had dissipated. He crashed into bed still fully dressed, earphones still in place and fell straight to sleep.


	3. Firestarter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback to Berlin part two - How did Draco end up living a muggle life?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mostly rated this fic M for the liberal use of drugs as plot devices, this starts here.

He woke up the next morning feeling distinctly worse for wear. Blearily he groped at his ears, trying to work out what was so uncomfortable about them. Pulling the headphones out the memory flooded back to him. Great - now he was hungover and ashamed. He had let his guard down, not only that but in front of a stranger AND muggle. He groaned internally, thankful that there was no one else around to witness this ultimate humiliation.

He looked down at the mini disc player. It looked expensive, even if he had no idea what muggle money was worth. Why had Jules leant it to him? What had he done to deserve this unsolicited kindness? Why did he trust him to bring it back? He groaned again as he realised that he had once again left the bar without paying for any of his drinks.

He eventually dragged himself out of his nest of self-pity at 11 to accompany his aunt to lunch do that he had agreed to the week before. After locating a hangover potion he dressed in the 0appropriate robes and made himself presentable. But after the last two nights in the bar with Jules he found himself feeling stuffy and overdressed.

Lunch was about as dull as it came and not even the lavish food with over-the-top presentation that he was normally so fond of could drag him from his gloomy outlook. There were a witch and wizard his age, but the girl barely said two words and the boy was only interested in the latest comings and goings of the pureblood families in England since the end of the war. He sat prodding a pie crust that had a pastry chicken that ran away from his knife and fork, chasing it futilely around the topping wishing he were back in bed listening to the borrowed music loud enough to make his ears bleed.

Back in his room he toyed with the idea of just keeping the music player. This would mean he could avoid going back to the bar. It made him uncomfortable that without even trying Jules seemed to be able to get Draco to open-up in a way he’d spent his life learning how not to. But he couldn’t deny that it wasn’t just the music that had meant this was the best he had felt in months. Besides, there was no way he was going to be able to find more music by himself.

So it was that he walked back to the busy street for a third night in a row, but at least knowing where he needed to go this time.

“Here he is!” Jules’ now familiar voice floated across the bar as he walked through the door. Anyone who didn’t know better would have thought he was greeting an old friend rather than someone who had he had met only two days ago. Draco was surprised to see Jules sitting at a table with a pint rather than behind the bar.

“Katrin” He called to the woman who was stood behind the bar “Can you get Drac here a glass of white wine?” He burst out laughing while Katrin looked between them perplexed.

Draco determined not to be the butt of any further joke said quickly “no! A beer please Katrin” and shot Jules a look of murder.

“I’m sorry” Said Jules although he didn’t look it. Then more quietly so no one else could hear “but you’re not as embarrassed about last night anymore are you?”

Draco had to begrudgingly admit that he was right, the anxiety that had been growing on his walk here had vanished. He took a seat and handed Jules his minidisc player and a 50 euro note.

“What’s this for?” Jules asked looking astounded at the note.

“I didn’t pay for may drinks again last night”

“That came to 20 euros max”

“Well keep the rest as a tip”

“Thanks” They sat in silence as the woman brought Draco his beer.

“How come you’re not working today?” Asked Draco

“Day off!” Jules beamed “I’m headed to a gig in a bit - you should come!” He exclaimed excitedly but it must have been obvious Draco was confused again as he promptly elaborated “A live music performance… Did you grow up under a rock?”

“No! I…” Draco started defensively. “I know what a gig is” He continued unconvincingly.

“Well anyway” continued Jules, “it’s the Prodigy, I’m going to assume you’ve never heard of them, but I know that you’ll love them.” He looked expectantly at Draco for a minute while he thought about it. 

“Fuck it” Draco said more to himself than to anyone else. He’d started down this truly bizarre path, he may as well see where it took him. “why not?”.

“That’s the spirit! Finish these then we’ll head off” Jules took a small plastic box with buttons out of his pocket, pressed a few of them then held it up to his ear. After a few seconds he spoke into it in German, it sounded like he was having a conversation but Draco couldn’t see or hear the other half of it. He looked around the bar, trying not to stare at the contraption and draw attention to another thing he didn’t understand.

“I’ve booked us a taxi” Said Jules, putting the box back into his pocket. “It’ll be here in 30 minutes, so we may as well have another beer while we wait”.

They stopped at another bar on the way. This one was much livelier than where Jules worked, brightly lit and busy with people, most of whom were heading to the same gig as them. The air was buzzing with anticipation for the evening and the excitement of the assembled crowd was contagious and soon Jules had Draco enthusiastically doing shots at the bar. When the time came, they headed over to the venue and got themselves more beer. Draco realised he was already drunk, but at least tonight it was a happy drunk which was much nicer than the night before.

The first band started, and a wave of noise louder than anything Draco had ever heard swept through the audience. He was transfixed by the show in front of him. Four people bounced around on stage while lights danced across them and the crowd in a rainbow of colours. Jules was next to him, pogoing up and down in time with the music. He tried to get Draco join in, but though drunk, 18 years of breeding persisted; he would not be persuaded to dance. Instead he took his cue from a surly looking man stood near them and showed his appreciation for the music by nodding along.

The atmosphere was electric and with every song, every cheer from the crowd, Draco felt more alive. By the end of the set he was grinning from ear to ear. He turned to his bouncing companion who looked at him and burst into laughter.

“Never thought I’d see you smile! We’ll make you a dancer by the end of the night.” Then he turned back and continued his revelry.

The band finished to shouts and applause from the crowd and after another trip to the bar they squeezed their way through the crowd to find a good spot. Jules surreptitiously pulled something out of his pocket and held it in front of Draco at waist height so the people around wouldn’t notice. It was a small pink pill, with a heart stamped into it. Draco eyed it, then Jules, suspiciously.

“It’s a happy pill. You don’t have to, and I won’t judge you either way. If you would like however, I will split it with you so that you know I’m not about to date rape you and because I presume you’ve never had any before so best to not give you too much.” With that he winked, bit it in two and swallowed half.

Draco still eyed him suspiciously but the alcohol and the atmosphere were egging him on. He realised with a jolt that he was already happy, happier than he had been in years. The promise of more happy was too much to resist. Without another thought he swallowed the other half with a swig of beer and looked expectantly at Jules who laughed.

“You won’t feel anything straight away you dingbat, give it half an hour. You’ll know when it hits you”.

In a moment of clarity through the booze and the noise he realised that he had just swallowed a completely unknown substance from a virtual stranger. The unsympathetic face of Severus Snape floated in front of his eyes reminding him of how foolish he had been. But then the crowd roared as the band started and all thoughts of it slipped away. Jules had been right, the music was very different to what he had listened to before, but it was also excellent.

Then without any warning Draco felt something rushing up inside of him, his head swam and his whole body swayed. He grabbed Jules' sleeve for support who immediately stopped his own personal party and turned to Draco, looking concerned.

However the feeling left as quickly as it had arrived and when Draco looked up, his perspective had changed. The rainbow of lights now glittered in front of him as though he could reach out and touch them. And the music! The beat pulsed through him filling his head with excitement and recklessness, he felt like he could take on the world. Almost without conscious thought his arms made their way up into the air moving in time and before he knew it, he too was pogoing with people in the crowd, lost in the music.

"I said we'd get you dancing!" Jules shouted. Draco turned to his friend and grinned like a Cheshire cat. Jules laughed and attempted to lift him off the ground in a one-armed hug. Through the noise a warm fuzzy feeling had filled his head and spread out through his body, emphasising the feeling of closeness in a way he had never appreciated it before. He didn’t care that he was surrounded by muggles. He didn’t care that he was being manhandled without warning. He didn’t care that this muggle had seen him break down the night before. He didn’t care.

In that moment Draco felt like he had never loved or trusted someone so much in his life. It was ecstasy.  
  


\------

  
Hours later they were lying side by side on the bank of the river staring at the stars. After the gig they had gone to another bar, taken more pills. There had been no one there to judge him, no one to care about his status. Pressure, fear and guilt all vanished under a blanket of anonymity. It was the best night of Draco’s life; full of carefree, uninhibited, fun. Then finally, when their bodies were tired from dancing and the frenetic rush of the drugs had dulled to a warm pulse they had walked out to a small park to sit.

Their and socks and shoes had been discarded and they were both flexing their toes into the damp soft grass beneath their feet. Two empty packets of Haribo were lying next to the pair with one of them being used as an ashtray.

Draco had been pointing out the constellations, but the sun was starting to rise and the stars were blinking out. Jules propped himself up on his elbows and looked down at him. "How do you remember so many of them?"

"It’s something I got taught" Draco's mind wandered back to the astronomy tower but shook it out of his head when he remembered what else had happened there apart from his lessons. Jules nodded, without saying anything else, accepting the half answer in the same way he had for all the questions he’d ever asked Draco.

Flicking his cigarette Draco propped himself up too, so their eyes were level.

“You always ask questions, but don’t seem to care about whether I give an answer – why?” Jules looked slightly taken aback at the sudden question.

“Because I’m a bit nosey, and it’s a way of making conversation. But it’s not my past to care about, and maybe you wouldn’t come back if I pushed for an answer.” He said after a moments consideration. Then cocking his head to the side, he asked “Should I care?”  
  
Draco stared into Jules' eyes, they were dark chocolate brown and so soft. Most of all they looked like he actually gave a fuck about Draco, despite how long he’d known him. For the first time in years, he felt wanted. Emotions bubbled in his head; anger, guilt, sadness, loneliness – all jostling for attention. He suddenly found he desperately wanted to tell Jules everything. This disarmingly cheerful man who seemed willing to accept Draco without any question. But despite everything, he knew he never could and sadness ultimately won. He looked down at the floor before he lost control of the tears prickling in his eyes again.

"I might not be the person you think I am." He said, not looking up.   
  
"Well that’s the benefit of not knowing your past isn't it?" Said Jules more brightly, trying to cheer Draco up. "I don't _think_ you're anyone. But I do know you're the person you are right now." With that final statement he stared off towards the sunrise and they fell back into companionable silence for several minutes.  
  
"Come travelling with me" Jules said suddenly - it was not a question. It took a moment for Draco to realise what he had said and even then, he could only manage to look completely dumbstruck. There was absolutely no sign of a joke in Jules’ eyes when Draco looked at him. “It’s not hard to see you’re miserable, whatever the reason. And I could use the company.”

Draco sat, flexing his toes more forcefully into the grass as he thought. It was a very tempting offer. He could disappear for a while. Stop having to look at all their faces of disgust and disappointment. Stop being expected to “Live up to the Malfoy name” until things had calmed down and people had moved on.

But then a slap of reality hit him in the face. This man was a muggle, a nice one sure, but that meant that there would be no magic. Life as a muggle was menial and hard, he had learnt that as a child.

But… a third little voice creeped in; how much of what you were taught utter bollocks anyway? He thought about the music, the minidisk player, the phone, all the carefree people he’d seen in the last three days. It was obvious that without magic they had come up with other, arguably better, things to fill their time. He thought about the evening he’d just had, he’d had fun - proper fun. More fun than he’d had in years, even before the dark lord’s return there’d never been times like tonight. Life was full of minding your appearance and curating your public persona. The opportunity to escape dangled temptingly in front of him.

Then, another slap from reality hit him: How was he supposed to survive in the muggle world he clearly knew so little about. Surely Jules would figure out something was up eventually? Even if Draco’s ignorance didn’t seem to bother him now.

However Jules had somehow followed his train of thought.

“If I had to guess, I would say that you used to be part of a cult who raised you in a very secluded manner.” His tone of voice suggested he was half joking, but half not. “You are currently trying to escape said cult, but as your whole family are involved you don’t have anyone to turn to for help. It’s a very secretive cult and would be fearful for your safety if you told anyone about it, hence your silence. Am I close? Or have I been reading too many Dan Brown novels?”

Draco sat in silence letting Jules’ words sink in. Depending on what angle you looked at it from, it was true. Certainly true enough to go along with. Another minute passed with Draco not saying anything. “Your silence says more than you want to” Jules looked serious “All you need to know is that I want to help. And I promise to never ask any more questions”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have a beta (any volunteers?), so all mistakes are my own. Thanks for making it this far despite them.


End file.
